


Sunrise Yoga

by commanderlurker (honeybee592)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beaches, Multi, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: James has seen a lot of people as a yoga instructor. Definitely flirted with a lot of them. Maybe kinda slept with a few, too. He doesn’t make a habit of it, but if the chemistry is right, if the heat is there, then sure, why not?





	Sunrise Yoga

**Author's Note:**

  * For [worstcommander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstcommander/gifts).



> Thank you, worstie. You know what you've done, and you're the best.

James’ last haircut was somewhere in Helmand province. As he sat there staring out at the brown treeless mountains while Esteban buzzed his hair, James made two resolutions for his future: One, he would never live out of sight of the ocean; and two, he’d never have another haircut.

Skip forward six months. He’s standing on a beach, sand between his toes, breeze ruffling his hair. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, a golden sliver, the sky orange, the sea dark. This is where he wants to be.

“Hey, man, James?” the voice is behind him. A chilled out drawl.

James turns. “Yeah, man, that’s me.” He recognizes the guy from the flyer he saw in the cafe the other day. They shake hands.

“I’m Garrus. Good morning for some yoga,” Garrus says.

“No doubt,” James says.

And so begins his new routine. Sunrise yoga, right on the beach. Sea on the breeze, sand under his feet. Clears his mind, cleanses his soul.

He’s got to earn a living though. Doesn’t have to be much. Just enough to pay for the rent on his beachside studio. Food’s cheap enough here. So’s electricity. This stretch of beach has free WiFi so the tourists can Instagram and Snapchat their vacations without risking roaming charges. James uses it to find work and parties. He goes through a few jobs. Bartender (no fun when you can’t drink what you make), bouncer (too much like the army in all the wrong ways), hotel valet (turns out a Ferrari doesn’t handle like a tank). He’s complaining about his most recent employment failure to Garrus after yoga. They’re drinking chia smoothies out of coconuts and watching the early morning joggers.

“You wanna like, teach yoga, man?” Garrus says. “You’d be good at it, dude as good looking as you.”

James snorts. “Takes more than good looks.”

Garrus waves away the objection. “I’ll teach you how to teach.”

And so James learns how to teach.

Garrus moves further down the coast after a while. He’s following his heart, so that leaves this beach to James. He sticks a few flyers around town, unsure that anyone would really want to do sunrise yoga on their vacation. Turns out they do, and they’re willing to pay. His first few customers stick around for a week or so, just as long as their vacation. They’re nice, chill, easy to teach. He sees them later on in the day, getting surfing lessons or just swimming, having a great time. He’s having a great time, too. And his hair gets long. He has to buy hair ties and he learns to keep a couple on his wrist. Turns out you can make a few friends if you have a spare hair tie going. One of those friends turns into a hot three night stand, and shit, isn’t that wild?

He’s seen a lot of people as a yoga instructor. Definitely flirted with a lot of them. Maybe kinda slept with a few, too. He doesn’t make a habit of it, but if the chemistry is right, if the heat is there, then sure, why not?

He’s had a couple of real memorable flings, or relationships, or whatever they’re called. His favorite was this dude called Bull. That was fifteen years ago, now. James doesn’t know where Bull came from or what he did for a living. All he knew was that Bull was big, loud, strong, and everything James needed at that point in his life. They met at a club, one of the beach clubs, where the heat of the day lingered long after the sun had set. They’d danced together, talking only with their bodies, moving with the beat. Bull didn’t wear a shirt, and under the lights of the club, the sweat shone off his chest and smoothly shaved scalp. He smelled amazing, all raw masculinity.

Their first words came later, when James asked if he could get the guy a drink. The voice that replied sent shivers down his spine. They drank, made out, danced, made out and danced at the same time, then went their separate ways. Next night they hooked up again and learned each other’s names. Bull came back to James’ place that night and didn’t leave in the morning.

That was the way they worked for that whole summer. James would get up before dawn, head down to the beach for his sunrise yoga class, then meet up with Bull at a cafe where they’d drink chia smoothies out of coconut halves. If he had no students scheduled, then Bull would haul his ass out of bed and they’d do yoga together. He had an old ankle injury and often wore a brace, so James made sure to go easy on his leg. Not the rest of him though. Then they’d surf or sunbathe, sometimes go hiking in the mountains if it wasn’t too hot. Later in the afternoon they’d cool off in the sea before fucking in James’ beachside studio until dinner time. Then they’d go out and eat cheap local food and dance until the small hours, before James had to go to bed and get at least a few hours’ sleep. One night, about four a.m., after having this long ass conversation about how cool dolphins are, they went on a mission to get tattoos. Matching. A dolphin each, on their ankles. To this day, whenever James is doing a forward bend, he’ll see that dolphin and smile. That was the craziest, best summer of James’ life.

But it couldn’t last, and one night Bull said he’d be leaving in a couple days. James was heartbroken, though he didn’t call it that at the time. They spent their last few days together making what could only be called sweet love, calling each other romantic saps and making stupid promises. Then Bull was gone. James went back to his studio after sunrise yoga, and the only thing Bull had left behind was his smell on the sheets.

James got a postcard or four for a few months afterwards. Exotic locations from all corners of the globe. But they petered out and so did James’ burning love for Bull.

There were other flings, too. None as amazing and all consuming as Bull. His first and only threesome is right up there though. A couple, dude and a chick, and sunrise yoga enthusiasts. Turned out they were James enthusiasts too. Kaidan and Shep, they were called. Nice couple, real polite. James wouldn’t’ve thought they had it in them to have crazy hot sex full of dirty talk and breathless moans until he’d experienced all that firsthand, sandwiched between them. Man, good times.

Then, oh, about ten years ago there was this girl, Grace. Well, at first James though she couldn’t be more than seventeen or eighteen. Turned out she was twenty-two and had just finished her undergrad degree. She was staying in one of those super fancy beachfront mansions further down the bay that only real rich people could afford. She’d get up extra early to jog up the beach to where James did his yoga class. After figuring out she was gonna be around a while, James would jog down and they’d meet halfway. She was cute. Real sweet. Honey couldn’t be sweeter than her. And she wasn't James’ type at all. He told himself that maybe he used to be like her once, young and full of enthusiasm, seeing the world through technicolor glasses. The army itself hadn’t beaten all that out of James, but two tours of Helmand sure had. Her degree was in peace and conflict studies, and she had an internship at the UN in Geneva come the end of summer. What could academics know about conflict and keeping the peace? But she grew on James. Her pride when she managed to hold a pose for ages, or nailed a new pose, made James feel all warm and gooey. And she had a gorgeous laugh. She was always laughing, he remembers that. And she loved the sunrises as much as he did.

In the afternoons he’d catch sight of her on the beach, working on her tan, reading a heavy book in the sun, or playing in the surf. She was always alone. Didn’t come with any friends and her parents weren’t with her either. Didn’t seem to make any vacation friends but that didn’t seem to bother her. Except when she needed sun cream put on her back.

One afternoon, he caught her eye, and she waved him over. He sat with her, checked out the book she was reading. Conflict prevention and preemptive disarmament. Shit, better her than him. They chatted a bit, James recommending local places to eat and drink. Then she held up her sun cream bottle.

“Could you, please?” she asked, blushing. Shit, she was adorable.

Well, who was James to deny such a polite request? He slathered cream on her back, working it under her bikini strings. She reached up to hold her hair out the way. It was already in a loose bun, and while she could have rubbed her own neck, James was right here, so he rubbed cream into her neck and shoulders, too, giving her a light massage.

“Thank you!” She always said thank you like you’d given her a kitten. “Do you want me to do you?”

James grinned and Grace went bright red, from her forehead to her cleavage. James didn’t need any, but he said please anyway, and shuffled in front so Grace could sun cream his back. She hummed away, and it was actually really nice. She rubbed his shoulders, too, and his neck. “How did you get such big muscles?” she asked, squeezing his traps.

James laughed and flexed. “I work out.”

“Not just yoga?”

“Yoga helps me keep loose.”

“Would you like to get a drink? Tonight?”

James froze for just a second. Not at the question, not really, more the one eighty of the conversation. Then he thought, shit, she’s got a thing for him. He had no intentions of sleeping with her and didn’t want to lead her on, but he didn’t want to let her down, either. He twisted, so he could face her. “How about ice cream, now?”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Maybe she figured out what his hesitation meant. But they went for ice cream, Grace lugging that big book and her towel around in a reusable cloth bag. James took it off her and carried it.

As far as non-dates went, this one was pretty damn good. Great company, great location, great ice cream. She told him more about herself and his initial skepticism melted away. She wasn’t nearly as naive as he thought she was, and her opinions on Afghanistan were actually really insightful. James opened up to her, then, and told her about his tours there. She was so entranced that her ice cream melted right off the cone.

“I can’t picture you with the short back and sides,” she said. “The bun looks good on you.”

As they parted ways a few hours later, James thought, yeah, maybe they could do this again. He said so, and Grace’s smile stayed with him for the rest of the day.

She came back the next morning for yoga, and the next morning. They went and got ice creams another couple of times. She never made a move on him, and James did his best not to flirt too much. Then one morning she turned up with a pile of seaweed. Neptune’s necklace, it looked like. Big green rubbery pearls all strung together. She left it by her bag and James began their yoga session as the sun started rising. He went through a series of poses for improving balance, having spied her on the beach the other day, failing her surfing lessons. By the end, they were both relaxed, James with that serenity that comes after a long session. Grace practically glowed; she looked gorgeous in the morning sun. That’s when she gave him the seaweed.

“I leave tomorrow and I wanted to give you--I made it--it’s for you. It’s a necklace.”

James bent down so she could put it over his head. It was still wet, and cold. It had small shells embedded (sewed?) into it. Goosebumps broke over his chest. It was the ugliest thing he had ever seen but it was also the sweetest, kindest gift he’d ever been given. He kinda wanted to kiss her right then and there, but he stopped himself by saying something completely unthought out.

“Do you want to get drinks tonight?” Her last night deserved a celebration.

They got drinks, alright. He even wore a shirt. Sure, it was open to the navel, but a shirt was a shirt. They met at one of the beachfront bars, the kind full of tourists and overpriced drinks. Before Grace could order, James took her hand and led her out. “Let’s go where the real parties are.” He took her to his local, where they ate fresh seafood and drank cocktails with tiny umbrellas. He told her she looked beautiful, and she did, in a flowery summery dress. They danced, holding hands and laughing, more like kids at a high school disco. No grinding their bodies against each other to a bass-driven beat.

Midnight hadn’t even come and gone when Grace’s dancing feet gave way to tired yawns. James walked her back to her mansion, and he had every intention of just making sure she got inside safely before he left, but she asked him in, and his feet followed. They sat on the deck and drank water. Just water.

“Would you like to stay?” Grace asked. “This cottage has seven bedrooms. They’re all made up. Take your pick.”

The offer was too tempting to resist, partly because James was more tired than he realized and he didn’t fancy walking all the way back to his own studio, and partly because, damn, this place was _rich_. And Grace called it a cottage when it was clearly a mansion. He claimed an upstairs bedroom, one overlooking the ocean. The bathroom had the same view, and before he slipped between those thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, he showered while looking out at the lights of the squid boats, way out at sea.

He woke before dawn, and tiptoed to Grace’s room. He knocked on the door, lightly. “Grace. Yoga time.” Shuffling noises, an unintelligible mumble, feet on the floor. Content that she’d not just go back to sleep, James left her to get ready while he scoped out the kitchen.

They did their yoga on the beach, drinking plenty of iced water, stretching their aching, dancing bodies. James had taken his hair out of its bun, shaking it free for the downward dog, enjoying the weight of it as his head was upside down. He kept it out as he moved them through the session, and it tickled his shoulders and back. On the last pose, Grace lost her balance and toppled over. She lay on her back, laughing at herself. James held his hand out for her, and she took it. He pulled her up and there she was, right in front of him, their hands still together. His other hand went around her waist, and her other hand rested on his chest. She looked up. He looked down. Their lips were close, so close, and getting closer, but at the last moment, they both broke away, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry--” They both spoke at the same time, then tried again, only to talk over each other again. Grace pointed to James and nodded. He took his cue.

“Let me make you breakfast.” It was the least he could do.

“That would be wonderful, thank you!”

The kitchen was well stocked. He went to put his hair back up, but his hair tie wasn’t on his wrist. Never mind. He made his classic, huevos rancheros. They ate on the deck and chatted. Melancholy hung heavy on that beautiful morning air, reminding James of another final morning he’d had with a very different person.

He stayed while Grace packed, and he only left when Grace did. He carried her suitcases--she had three; two of them were full of books--to the taxi, and they waved goodbye.

He walked back up the beach to his own studio, wading through the surf. Why was his heart aching so much for someone he hadn’t even hooked up with? When he got home, he saw the ugly-beautiful seaweed necklace, and he dried it in the oven, so he could keep it.

New people came to his sunrise yoga. Older couples, even a family with young kids. Demand would peter out during the off season, but James kept himself busy working out and hanging out with the other locals. Years passed like this, the length of his hair marking the passage of time as he taught yoga with the sunrise. He learned to surf properly, went diving, too.

Grace has been and gone about ten years now, but he still thinks of her from time to time, wondering what she’s up to. He still thinks about Bull, too.

He’s doing sunrise yoga on his own for once when he notices a silhouette walking up the beach. The silhouette resolves into two, and the couple walk, hand in hand. One of them looks familiar. Very familiar. James’ heart goes funny. It can’t be. No way. He glances between the two, and recognizes the gait of the other person. Holy hell. They see James and alter their course, walking towards him instead of continuing along the surf.

“Hey, James?” Bull says. “What the shit are you doing here?”

“I live here, man. What the shit are you doing here?”

Bull laughs and squeezes Grace’s shoulder. He’s got hair now. Long black hair tied back in a bun, just like James’. He's got an eye patch, too, and some wicked scars poking out from underneath the patch. His shoulder looks like it's had strapping tape on it recently. “We’re on our honeymoon. This is my wife, Grace.” The pride in his voice tugs at James’ heart. He’s seen loads of honeymooners, newly-weds, and couples on their anniversaries over the years, and has always been happy for them. He really is a hopeless romantic, he just doesn’t want to admit it.

“Shit, congratulations.” He shakes both their hands.

Grace smiles and says hello. “Do you two know each other?” She doesn't otherwise acknowledge James. Has she forgotten about him?

“Yeah,” Bull says. “We go way back.”

He doesn’t say any more, so James doesn’t either. Probably not polite to bring up old flames during a honeymoon.

“You still doing your sunrise yoga?” Bull asks.

“Uh huh.”

Bull squeezes Grace’s shoulder again. “James is the best yoga instructor around. We could do a few sessions, loosen up the muscles?”

Grace’s smile is shy and coy all at once, and James can tell that yeah, she remembers him. His own cheeks go pink on her behalf. He knows exactly what a night with Bull can do to a body. Grace is keen, and they agree to meet James before dawn the next morning. Then they continue their walk up the beach while James goes and has a much needed cool off in the sea. When he gets home, he dusts off Grace's dried seaweed necklace and smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

*

Once the waiter has taken their order, Bull takes Grace’s hand in his.

“You okay, kadan?” he asks. She’s been quiet ever since they’d seen James. Maybe he shouldn’t have volun-told her for the sunrise yoga, at least not right in front of James.

“Mmm hmm.”

He squeezes her hand.

“I nearly kissed him!” she blurts out. “It was ten years ago, before I met you. I was on my summer break between university and the internship, and my parents rented me a beach cottage, and I did James’ morning yoga and--and--I thought I was in love with him! I made him the ugliest necklace! I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry that you’ve never made me an ugly necklace?”

“No!” She taps his hand, but she looks relieved that Bull isn’t angry. How could he be?

“You don’t need to apologies,” he says. “It’s a crazy coincidence, though. See, about fifteen years ago, I was sent here for a summer. Old mission, old days. And I did James’ yoga, too. And him. Shit, we spent that summer fucking like dolphins. It was crazy.” Bull suddenly remembers that he is talking to his _wife_ about an old flame. “Uh, sorry. More detail that you needed to know.”

She frowns. “Is that why you have that dolphin tattoo on your ankle?”

“Uh…” Not the most flattering of tattoos, that one, but the memory it invokes more than makes up for his four a.m. judgement.

“Because James has the same one. When we first got together, I saw yours and thought it looked familiar. Then it all fell into place when I saw James just now.” She nudges his shoulder. “You had a summer fling. That’s adorable.”

“You had a summer crush.”

“On the same man. Imagine that!”

“He's still hot.”

“And you have the same hairstyle.”

True. They do.

Grace flags down the waiter and orders more coffee. “I think… I think my summer with him gave me the confidence to ask you out. I had a crush on you all through our final year, but you were always with other people, and I was too scared to approach you. And when you said you’d gotten into the intern program as well, my heart couldn’t take it! I deferred the summer intake, to have a break and clear my head. But when I arrived in Geneva at the start of autumn, you were still there, and I fell in love with you all over again. And I remembered how James’ yoga made me feel, how strong it made me--physically, but mentally, too--and how badly I wanted to kiss him and how angry I was at myself for not doing it. I resolved then not to live with regrets for things I didn’t do, so I asked you out.”

“And now I’m your husband.” Bull links his fingers with Grace’s and grins what he knows is the sappiest, goofiest grin imaginable.

“And now I’m your wife.”

They kiss across the table, and only break away when the waiter comes and awkwardly sets their coffee down.

*

Bull and Grace turn up for yoga when the sky is still violet. James leads them through a series of poses that stretches the glutes and hamstrings and groin. He has them stand tall and breathe deep, to open up their lungs and spines. The sun rises behind him, painting the sky in reds and golds. Light glints off their wedding bands and James grins, happy for them, and delighted at the coincidence that two of his most memorable students have fallen in love.

They're just finishing up and James is starting to fantasize about chia coconut smoothies, when Grace says, “I like your tattoo. I’ve been thinking of getting one.”

He looks to where she is looking, and is horrified when he realizes that her eyes have settled on the tattoo on his ankle. He glances at Bull and sees the matching dolphin on his good ankle. Grace giggles and James looks up.

“Bull told me all about your summer together. Well, not all of it. Enough for me to get the idea. He’s wonderful, isn’t he?”

“Damn straight,” James says. “A real catch.”

“I told him about our summer, too. Not nearly as passionate as yours, unfortunately.”

James’ heart twists at the memory. She’d really fallen for him, and he hadn’t been able to reciprocate. “I still have the necklace you made me.”

“Really? How?” She looks mortified, her cheeks bright red in the morning sun.

“I dried it out. No one had ever given me a seaweed necklace before.”

“But it was the ugliest thing ever! Who makes seaweed necklaces? I am so embarrassed.”

Bull laughs, loud. “That is adorable, kadan. Really, it is.”

Grace blushes even more, and that makes James laugh. She fiddles with her wrist.

“I have something else for you,” she says. She holds out a hair tie. James takes it, puzzled. “You took your hair out during our last yoga session, and your hair tie fell on the sand. I took it. It was a dumb token. I felt bad seeing you cook breakfast with your hair in your face, but not bad enough to give it back.”

“Shit, he cooked breakfast for you and you hadn’t even fucked?” Bull whistles. “Damn, James, you’re a real gentleman.”

James gives Bull the middle finger before adding Grace’s hair tie to his own bun. “You two are made for each other. How did you meet?”

“Shall we tell the story over breakfast?” Grace asks. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, come back to my place. I’ll cook.”

They wander up the beach to James’ studio. He opens the doors to let the breeze in and gets started. Coffee first, then OJ, then eggs. He presents the seaweed necklace and Grace shrieks.

“You have to throw it out!” she cries.

“Nah, when I die, I want to be buried wearing it.”

She shrieks again and Bull laughs. James puts it aside and cuts up peppers and onions for scrambled eggs. Grace and Bull tell him their love story, saying how they met at college, but only got together when they were interns at the UN. Bull had been a double agent at the time, a spy, and he had been a spy when he and James had had their fling, too. That news threw James out so much that he just stood there gaping.

“Grace stopped me from doing something stupid,” Bull explains. “I defected after that. Then she kissed me in the rain. It was beautiful. The garlic’s burning.”

“Shit.” He scrapes the pan and gets going again. “So how does that work? You were working for the UN and then you just defect?”

“It got complicated. Legal fucking nightmare. Fortunately one of our college friends graduated top in her class in international law and got snapped up by a prestigious law firm. We made a few calls and she--Josephine--sorted me out.”

“Fuck me.” James cracks the eggs in and scrambles them with a little milk. He wants to ask more questions, but he lets the whole spy thing rest for the moment. “So what’re you guys doing now?”

“I lead a program within UN Women,” Grace says. “We help women re-establish their communities after armed conflict.”

“And I’m assistant to the High Commissioner for refugees,” Bull says.

“No fucking way!” James stops again. He points his spatula at Grace, then at Bull, determined to say something coherent, but failing to think of anything.

“Grace is going to be Secretary General one day, I just know it,” Bull says. He goes all doe-eyed and hugs her.

They eat breakfast on the deck, James asking more questions about their careers. Bull remains cagy whenever James veers too close to the double agent shit, and as much as he burns to hear more about that, he knows when someone doesn’t want to talk, so he holds his tongue.

Grace and Bull leave close to midday. They’re headed to the mountains that afternoon, and will spend a few days hiking, but they promise to be back, for yoga and dinner, too. James leaves them with a secret local tip: the location of a hot spring. Just what you need after a day's hiking.

When they get back, they have sore legs from all the exploring. Probably from honeymoon sex, too, but James doesn’t voice that. He leads them through a session to stretch their legs and work their posture. They met up for dinner and drinks later, and James takes them out dancing. This time Grace really lets her hair down. Both literally and metaphorically. Bull has his hair down too. James can’t quite get used to that. From the shaved scalp to a full on man bun, Bull has changed, for the better, definitely. Watching the two of them dance makes James feel like he’s intruding on a private show. Bull’s hands are all over Grace’s body, and her body is all up against Bull’s, and damn, it is _hot_. Too hot. James goes to the bar to cool off.

Later, he walks them back to their suite. They’re all over each other the whole walk back, and James definitely feels like the third wheel. He leaves them at their beach front studio. It’s real upmarket, not the plywood walls of James’ studio, and walks back along the beach, trying not to think about his summer with Bull, and the almost-kiss with Grace.

Grace and Bull come to yoga most mornings for the rest of their honeymoon. Sometimes they run into James at the beach in the afternoon, other times he doesn’t see them for a couple of days. The closer they get to the end of their stay, the more melancholy James gets. Stupid, really. He’s well over the burning passion from his summer with Bull, his feelings towards him just warm and happy. Same with Grace.

They come for their last morning of sunrise yoga, and the sun must have known they were flying away that day because it puts on a show. Purples and pinks bleed into reds and golds, the sun itself a burning bright orange. The three of them linger after their session, paddling in the surf instead of going their separate ways. Grace and Bull have a taxi to catch though, so eventually they turn their backs to the sea.

“Well--” James begins. Grace grabs his hand and holds it between both of hers. The angle forces him to turn and face her. She looks… confused? Nervous? She licks her lips.

“James. Last time I left here, I made a promise to myself to be more brave. I… I wanted to kiss you, back then, and I think, looking back, maybe you didn’t want to kiss me. But I couldn’t let myself leave this time without asking you, if I could kiss you, please?”

James gapes. He stares, mouth open, at Grace. He shuts his mouth and looks over Grace’s shoulder, at Bull. Bull gives him an enthusiastic two thumbs up. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to, more that the request is kind of a surprise. Here is a woman who’s only been married a few weeks, wanting to kiss a man who isn’t her husband. And the husband is actively encouraging this kiss. Man, couples are _weird_.

“Okay,” he says. Why not?

“Sure?” Grace asks.

“I’m all yours, Grace.”

Grace smiles, eyes bright in the morning light. She puts her hands on James’ chest, to steady herself, goes up on tiptoes, and kisses James… on the cheek. A light press of her lips to his cheek. Then she’s back on the ground, her hands by her sides. James blinks. The softness, the sweetness of it caught him completely off guard, but he should have expected that from Grace. He blinks again, then leans down to kiss Grace’s cheek, just as carefully as she’d kissed his. Then he steps over to Bull, takes Bull’s face between his hands, and plants a firm kiss on his lips. He lets go and stands back.

“Good seeing you both again. Come back next year for your anniversary, no?”

Grace grins. “Thank you, James. For everything. You’re a wonderful man.”

Bull looks dazed. He takes Grace’s hand. “Nice seeing you, James.” He tips his head, then Grace and Bull walk hand in hand back down the beach.

James waits until they’re just dark specks in the distance before he turns away. He shields his eyes against the sun, and stares out at the horizon.

“Excuse me, James?”

James turns. He does a double take. “Shep? Kaidan?”

The both grin.

“Holy fuck.”

“Not the greeting I was expecting,” Shep says. “Are we too late for sunrise yoga?”

James points at the sun, now on its way across the sky. “I mean, yeah. But, we can do yoga now. What the fuck are you guys doing here, anyway?”

Shep’s smile is coy. It’s Kaidan who speaks. “We missed our favorite yoga instructor.” Then he breaks into a grin. “How have you been?”

James smirks. “It’s been a weird couple of weeks.” He rolls his neck and claps his hands. “You guys have just made it weirder. I like it. Come on. Let’s get started.”


End file.
